


Doing Alright

by Askafroa, chilibabie07



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avengers cameo, Bottom Steve Rogers, Boys In Love, Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson Friendship, Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Friendship, Coming Out, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Getting Together, Internalized Homophobia/Transphobia, M/M, Minor Bucky Barnes/Clint Barton, Misgendering (not intentionally), Non-Binary Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Supportive Avengers, Supportive Bucky Barnes, Supportive Natasha Romanov, Supportive Sam Wilson, Top Sam Wilson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:15:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26855806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Askafroa/pseuds/Askafroa, https://archiveofourown.org/users/chilibabie07/pseuds/chilibabie07
Summary: After seeing a news coverage of the Avengers' latest mission, Steve starts to notice that the uneasy feeling in his gut might have something to do with the reporter repeatedly referring to Steve as "he". He starts to google some things, talks to Sam and his therapist about it. Soon Steve realizes that he is not a "he", but non-binary. They come out to Sam first and then the whole world. Somewhere in that process they retire and fall in love with Sam.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson
Comments: 8
Kudos: 44
Collections: Bottom Steve Rogers Fest 2020





	Doing Alright

**Author's Note:**

> This is Mairi's and my contribution to the Bottom Steve Rogers Fest! It has been such a joy to work on this little project with them, I've loved every second of it! <3
> 
> Thank you to my beta, [ella](https://twitter.com/softstevie) and my sensitivity reader [JC](https://twitter.com/_jcsugar), you both are awesome and I appreciate you both helping this fic see AO3! <3
> 
> Title from the song of the same name by Queen.

He turns off the TV not five minutes into the news coverage of the last Avengers’ mission. There’s an uneasy feeling in his gut, something is obviously wrong, but he can’t figure out what. He knows it has to do with the news coverage, since the feeling wasn’t there before, but he doesn’t know what exactly it is. He’s watched a lot of footage of battles the Avengers were part of. Something was wrong with this one though. He knows it, even if he can’t pinpoint what exactly was wrong. He just knows he feels better now that the TV is off and he doesn’t have to listen to the reporter excessively talk about Steve jumping from building to building.

For a few minutes he continues to sit on the fancy couch in his apartment in the tower, trying to figure out what was wrong. The uneasy feeling persists, though not as strong as before, and he decides to call his therapist. Because he has one, and she said to call if something was up.

So he takes his phone out of his pocket and taps around on the screen to pull up her contact. He hesitates only a second before pressing the small green button next to her name and lifts the phone up to his ear. The dialing sound is loud in his ear, but before he can lower the volume the line clicks and his therapist answers.

“Steve, what can I do for you?” she asks and he can faintly hear paper rustling in the background.

“Uhm,” he says. “I don’t know exactly?”

There’s a short pause on the other end, before more paper rustles and there's the click of a pen. Dr. Cardoza is getting ready to take notes then.

“Let’s start with the hopefully easy question,” she says. “Is there a reason why you called me?”

That is indeed easy. “Yes,” he answers.

“Okay, good. Now, tell me about the reason,” she continues.

He clears his throat before talking. “I’m not sure. I was watching the news coverage of the last mission on TV and suddenly felt weird?” It comes out as more of a question than a statement. “Maybe weird is the wrong word, but…” he trails off.

“Something feels or felt off, but you can’t say what exactly?” she asks and Steve can hear her writing something down, his supersoldier hearing able to pick up on the scratching of the pen on paper.

He lets out a sigh. “Yeah.”

“It’s okay if you don’t yet know what the trigger was here. Let’s retrace your steps,” she proposes. That’s why Steve likes her. She’s quick about catching on and always has a solution ready for him. “Start from the point you turned on the TV.”

“Okay,” he clears his throat. “I came home after the post-mission brief and took a quick shower. Then I sat down on the couch and I knew I wanted to order dinner, but I turned on the TV before I could look up a place. And the news channel was still on, and I knew I wanted to change because I didn’t really want to watch what I saw with my own eyes not twelve hours ago.”

Dr. Cardoza hums a little before speaking. “Do you know why you didn’t switch the channels?”

“I,” he starts, before taking some time to actually think about the question. “No, not really. Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, Steve,” she assures him. “We all sometimes do or don’t do things without really knowing why,” she pauses for a moment; Steve can hear her writing something down, probably the question so they can come back to that at a later point. “Now, let’s skip that one for now. You didn’t switch channels, and continued to watch the news. Can you tell me when exactly the uneasy feeling started?”

“Uhm,” Steve stalls. “I think it was because this time the reporter focused a lot on me? But I’m usually always mentioned a lot so I don’t know what exactly triggered the uneasiness.”

“That’s okay,” Dr. Cardoza says, again accompanied by the scratching of her pen on paper. “Do you remember any specific phrases the reporter said? Anything that maybe stood out to you? Take some time to think about it.”

Steve does, takes a few minutes to mentally travel back to when he sat in front of the TV, eyes glued to the screen, watching the reporter in the foreground with a microphone in his hand, footage of the fight playing in the background. He tries to remember what the reporter said, but he doesn’t come up with much.

“Not really? I mean, it wasn’t anything unusual or different from other times, I’m sure of that,” he finally says. “I just know that he talked a lot about me, describing what I did in the footage shown behind him. I remember that he rarely used my name, most times he only used…” he trails off.

“Steve,” Dr. Cardoza says, and Steve can picture her leaning forward a little in her seat, like she’s on to something, like she has already figured everything out. “Did the uneasy feeling come from the reporter’s choice of pronouns in regards to you?”

There’s noise in his ears, clogging everything up, making everything else step into the background. He can hear his own breathing speeding up, but it sounds like it’s coming from far away. He knows it’s a panic attack, and he vaguely remembers Dr. Cardoza giving him tips on how to deal with one when it creeps up on him, but he can’t remember exactly what it is. He doesn’t remember and it makes his panic grow even more.

A voice in his ear tells him to breathe, tells him to sit with his back against something solid, so he slides down from the couch onto the floor, pressing his back against the couch. Belatedly he realizes it’s Dr. Cardoza’s voice, his hand still pressing the phone against his ear. He tries taking slow and deep breaths, but it just makes him feel like he can’t breathe at all, so it picks back up.

It takes him a while to get his breathing under control again, but he manages, and finally doesnt feel like his lungs are about to burst out of his chest.

“No,” Steve manages to get out. It’s hard, and he doesn't really want to examine why it feels like a lie.

“You know,” Dr. Cardoza says, “nowadays there exist many different gender expressions, and it’s not wrong to identify as something other than what you were born.” Her voice is gentle, as if talking to a frightened child, and Steve can’t help but snort innerly at that comparison. Because he definitely is frightened, of this new thing, of what it could mean.

“I’m-” Steve tries. ‘I’m sure’ he wants to say. ‘I’m sure my gender is the one I was born with’. But he can’t say it, can’t bring his lips to part, to spit out the words that, deep down in his heart he knows, are a lie. He can’t say it because he just knows it’s not right.

So he doesn’t say it, just sits there in silence, until Dr. Cardoza clears her throat and speaks again.

“How about you think about it, google some things? I can send you some links if you’d like,” she offers.

Steve makes a few attempts to speak, but there's a lump in his throat stopping him from talking. So he makes a noncommittal noise instead and hopes Dr. Cardoza understands him anyways.

“Okay, then let’s do that,” Dr. Cardoza says. “And you know, you can call me anytime you need to discuss or talk about something.”

“I know,” Steve gets out roughly. “Thank you.”

He hangs up after and stares blankly at the TV. Then he pulls up his phone's browser and googles gender expressions.

*******

The next day is a Friday, which means movie night in the living room on the common floor. He doesn't even know which movie they’re watching, is just absently munching on a cheesy pizza slice, deep in thoughts about what he read last night, after the phone call with Dr. Cardoza.

He occasionally hears the others commenting on the movie, but tunes it out most of the time. But then he hears Nat asking Bruce if she should talk to Steve and ask him why he’s not paying attention to the movie. Steve can’t help but flinch when Nat uses ‘he’, and he hopes that nobody notices. But they’re Avengers, some highly trained assassins even, so of course the chance of them not noticing is minimal. He knows they would totally want to ask him what’s going on and he definitely isn’t ready to talk about it. So he does the only thing that he believes is the right thing to do; he gets up and goes back to his apartment.

Once there, he toes off his shoes and walks into his bedroom, where he quickly pulls off his jeans and button down shirt in favor of throwing on his coziest sweatpants and that big hoodie that somehow always smells like coffee and old books. He loves it.

His phone is still on the table in the living room, battery nearly empty, so he picks it up and goes back to the bedroom, deciding to spend the night huddled in bed under the warm and thick blanket instead of on the couch.

He opens the browser and the last page about gender expressions he opened yesterday stares back at him. He presses the off-button on the side of his phone before he can even think about it.

Five minutes later, spent staring at the wall opposite the bed, he reaches for his phone again and rolls onto his side when he realizes the charger cord is too short. It’s a more comfortable position anyways.

He unlocks his phone and finds himself back on the site. This time he scrolls back up to the top and decides to just slowly read through the different gender identities that exist. He does this a few times, just to make sure he understands what each means correctly, and notices that every time he comes to the definition of non-binary his heart starts beating faster, his breathing becomes irregular and it feels like his brain is constantly nodding. He decides to google non-binary by itself, and the more he reads the more he starts to think that this is what he is. The site he’s currently on also gives some information about pronouns and that non-binary people tend to use they/them the most. Not all though, some use she or he, others use ze/zir. There’s a ton of pronouns out there and one of the first things Steve learns is that not everyone with the same gender identity uses the same pronouns.

He tries it out in his head a few times. _That’s Steve, they’re an Avenger. Their favorite food is lasagna.’_.

He wants to cry. No. They want to cry. It feels good, it feels right, it feels like _them_.

They get up from their cocoon of heavy blanket and get a notebook. They open it to a fresh blank page and also pick up a pen from their desk. They go back to the bed, sitting down on it with their back propped against the headboard, some pillows in between to make it softer, blanket thrown over their stretched out legs. They wiggle their feet a bit under it, witness the blanket move with the motion and smile softly. Then they uncap the pen and set down the tip on the top of the page.

_Today I found out something about myself. Well actually, it was yesterday, but today I found a term for it. I’m non-binary. I now use they/them pronouns.  
Like: ‘Their name is Steve.’_

They stop here for a moment, staring at their name. It doesn’t feel right, doesn’t feel like it fits them anymore. Steve sounds too masculine for their liking. But it’s the name their mother gave them, they don’t want to change it completely either. They stare off into space for a bit, when they remember what their mother always used to call them. _Stevie_. They say it out loud a few times, a quiet whisper into the silence of the room.

“Stevie. Their name is Stevie,” they slowly say. It sounds good. It fits them, it feels right.

They smile softly before picking up the pen again and continuing to write.

_My name is not Steve anymore, it’s Stevie now. My ma always called me that back then. I don’t want to completely change my name, it’s one of the few things I still have that are from my ma. Stevie feels right, it doesn’t sound too masculine or feminine. It’s in the middle of both. It feels right._

_My name is Stevie and I am non-binary._

They stare at that last sentence for a while and don’t notice there’s tears on their face until the first rolls down and falls onto the page, leaving a wet patch in the middle of it. They take a moment to reach into themselves, to figure out what these tears are, but when they feel a smile forming on their lips they know those are happy tears. They cry a bit more, occasionally wiping at their wet cheeks with shaking fingers, pen and notebook long forgotten, lost somewhere in the thick folds of the blanket.

They slide down the bed until their head is cushioned on the pillows. There’s a clatter, probably the pen and notebook falling off the bed. They ignore it.

They close their eyes for a bit, just repeating ‘ _Their name is Stevie, they’re non-binary_ ’ over and over in their head, until the vibrating of their phone interrupts them.

Hands flail unseeing towards the general direction of their phone and when they feel their fingertips bumping against it, they stretch a bit more and grab it.

The charger is still attached, so they grunt and roll onto their side again.

There’s a new message from Sam, as well an invitation to play a round of cup pong. They smile softly.

They play cup pong first, and once that’s sent they answer Sam’s text.

**Sam** : _Breakfast tomorrow? My treat._

_Sure. The Cookies and Coffee?_

**Sam** : _Yeah, meet you there @ 9?_

_Can’t wait!_

**Sam** : _Me neither._

**Sam** : _Why do you always win at cup pong smh_

_Idk, maybe im just that good_

**Sam** : _[gif of Cher Horowitz saying ‘As If’]_

_gnight sam_

**Sam** : _night steve_

They look at Sam’s last message for a moment and then decide to tell Sam that they’re non-binary and would like to be called Stevie. They don’t feel ready yet to come out to anyone else, especially not the world, which they know is bound to happen at some point. But for now they want to keep it a secret for a little bit longer, want to have some time to get used to this new thing themselves. But they feel that telling Sam won’t make it less of a secret, it feels more like if you’d tell a loved one something. They didn’t even question their decision to tell sam. Because they trust each other blindly. They don’t keep secrets from each other, they don’t keep anything from each other. Stevie never really thought much about it until just now, when they decided to tell Sam first. It’s as if they know that Sam would accept them without any hesitation. Stevie doesn’t know why they’re so sure of that, they just _are_.

They sometimes caught themselves just staring at Sam, knowing that there was a small smile on their lips and a soft look in their eyes. The same look they sometimes saw on Sam’s face, when he was looking at Stevie, not knowing they noticed. Stevie never really thought about that, thinking what they had was just simply a really close friendship.

But now, lying on the bed, a soft smile on their face while thinking about their friendship with Sam, they wonder if it isn’t something more. It certainly could be, Sam isn’t exactly secretive about his bisexuality.

Stevie had enough revelations about themselves for today though, so they decide to table that thought for tomorrow. They set an alarm for 7:30am and before heading to sleep, they send a quick text to Dr. Cardoza, telling her about what they figured out today.

Then they turn their phone off and place it on the nightstand, wiggling around a bit in bed until they find a comfortable position and close their eyes.

*******

They’re awoken by the annoying sound of the alarm piercing through the room. They groan in annoyance and blindly reach for the phone, successfully turning the alarm off. Deciding to close their eyes for five more minutes they roll back to the other side and bury their face in the pillow. Ten minutes later the alarm sounds again and Stevie mentally smacks themselves. They hit snooze and not stop earlier.

But it was a good thing, considering they have a date with Sam in less than two hours. No, not a date. Breakfast. As friends. Because they are friends, really close friends actually. But Sam said ‘my treat’. Does that mean anything?

“Stop overthinking,” they tell themselves and resolutely do not think about this breakfast-or-maybe-a-date-thing anymore. Instead, they throw the blanket away from their body, shivering as the cold air hits their body despite the hoodie and sweatpants they’re wearing. That brings them to the next topic. What should they wear to this probably-not-date today?

They debate calling Nat to ask, but then they’d have to answer questions about this not-date and they really don’t want to. At least not now, when they’re not even sure if this really is a date. But if it was, surely Sam would’ve mentioned something, right?

“You’re overthinking again, Stevie,” they say, and have to smile when they notice they called themselves Stevie. It still feels good, right.

They take a quick shower and brush their teeth, before wandering back into the bedroom and standing in front of the closet in just a towel. They’re shivering a bit, water dripping down from their wet hair onto naked skin. It’s cold, but it helps because now they just want to quickly put on clothes and don’t have time to overthink what they’re gonna wear.

They end up picking a pair of skinny jeans and a hoodie that’s soft on the inside, fabric feeling like a blanket where it brushes against their skin. They pull on some socks before meandering out into the hallway at the front door, sitting down on the floor to slip into some boots, quickly lacing them up. They rush back into their bedroom to get their phone.

Back in the hallway they pull on a bomber jacket, making sure that their wallet and keys are in the pockets. Then they leave their apartment, texting Sam that they’re on their way.

_am omw, see u soon!!_

**Sam** : _whoever gets there first orders coffee for the other, deal?_

_deal xD_

Stevie pockets their phone and stuffs their hands into the pockets of the jacket. It’s colder than they thought, they should’ve brought some gloves with them. But it’s not far towards the _Cookies and Coffee_ so it’s not bad. And there’s a warm cup of coffee waiting for them when they get there.

They’re the first to arrive, ordering a coffee for Sam and a caramel macchiato for themselves; and choose a small table in the back of the cafe. They really are not in the mood to be recognized by anyone right now, not that they’re ever really in the mood for that, but especially not today, since they have something important to tell Sam on their not-date.

Sam arrives shortly before the waiter brings over their coffees, and they both order a sandwich; with Sam also adding a fruit salad to his order, to which Stevie just raises their eyebrows, earning a snarky “ _not everyone has your metabolism_ ” from Sam.

“So, how’ve you been, Sam?” Stevie asks while taking a cautious sip from their macchiato.

“Oh, you know,” Sam replies and shrugs. “Yesterday I had to stop Bucky from repainting the kitchen.”

“Does he still want to paint it in this ugly blue?” Stevie snorts. They know all about how Bucky, Sam’s best friend and roommate, wants to paint their kitchen because he doesn’t like the grey it is now.

“I don’t think he will ever give up,” Sam sighs. “I nearly gave up yesterday and would’ve even driven him to Home Depot to buy that ugly color he wants.”

“Ohmygod,” Stevie just chuckles. “How did you manage to refrain from that?”

“He asked if he could paint the living room in a bright purple, too,” Sam says and rolls his eyes. Stevie just laughs.

“Is he still pining after Clint?”

“Please do not mention his name, I’ve heard enough about him. Clint this, Clint that, just ask him out!” Sam whines miserably.

Stevie tries to contain their chuckling but judging by the look Sam throws them, they don’t succeed.

“Topic change please,” Sam pleads and directs his best puppy eyes at Stevie. They can never resist those.

This could be their chance to tell Sam. Their chance to come out of the closet to the one person they know will completely accept them and maybe also love them in a romantic way. They hope.

“Steve?” Sam says, bringing them out of their thoughts. They flinch at the name. “What’s going on?”

“Uhm,” they say.

“Whatever it is, you know you can tell me,” Sam says and slowly reaches across the table for Stevie’s hand, placing his own on top. The warmth of his skin on Stevie’s is soothing and calming.

They take a few deep breaths, and then try again. “So, I talked to my therapist two days ago, and she helped me realize something,” they start. “About myself.”

“That’s great!” Sam exclaims and squeezes Stevie’s hand in support. “Do you want to tell me what it was?”

“Yes, I want to,” Stevie says. “I just don’t know… how.”

“Take your time,” Sam simply says and gives their hand another squeeze.

Stevie takes some time to collect their thoughts and bring them into some kind of order. They’re thankful when the waiter comes back to bring them their food, and for a moment they sit there in silence, each eating their sandwiches. Sam never lets go of Stevie’s hand, and Stevie lets themself hope.

“I think it’s easiest if I just say it,” Stevie breaks the silence. Sam hums in agreement, but otherwise doesn’t interrupt them.

“I’m…” they hesitate. Sam starts moving his thumb in soothing circles over the back of their hand. “I’m non-binary,” they let out with a gasp. Sam never stops the movement of his thumb.

“Okay,” he simply says. “What pronouns do you use?”

“They them,” Stevie says, a tiny smile stealing its way onto their lips. They glance up at Sam and find him staring back at him, his gaze full of love and understanding. They gasp again, suddenly overwhelmed by the emotions in Sam’s eyes.

“Okay cool,” Sam says and smiles at them. “Would you like to be called something else, too? I saw you flinch when I called you _Steve_ just now.”

“Nothing ever escapes you, does it?” Stevie asks softly.

“Not when it comes to you,” Sam simply says. Like it’s that easy. And that’s the moment Stevie realizes. It _is_ that easy. When it comes to Sam, everything is easy. Because it’s them.

“Same,” they answer, and can’t stop the big smile forming. They turn their hand around, and close their fingers over Sam’s hand, holding on.

Stevie gets lost in Sam’s eyes for a moment there, the two of them just staring at each other, the love coming from them so obvious now.

“And yeah, I prefer Stevie over Steve. It feels more neutral,” Stevie says when they remember Sam asked about that.

“Okay, Stevie,” Sam says, and they like how their name sounds when Sam says it out loud.

“Thanks,” Stevie says, suddenly shy, and not knowing what else to say.

“Of course,” Sam replies. “Thank _you_ for trusting me with this.”

“There’s no one I trust more than you, you know,” Stevie blurts out and slaps their free hand over their mouth. Their eyes grow big when Sam just lifts their clasped hands and presses a soft kiss to the back of Stevie’s hand.

“Right back at you,” he quietly says, and Stevie can’t help themselves. They lean forward and press a clumsy kiss to Sam’s lips.

“I think I love you,” Stevie says after. They know it’s the right thing, they know they won’t get rejected.

“I know I love you,” Sam retorts and pulls Stevie in for another kiss, this one a bit longer, but no less soft.

“Does that make us partners now?” Stevie asks, even though they know the answer. They just want to hear Sam say it.

“Yes, it does make us partners,” Sam grins happily.

They eat the rest of their sandwiches in silence after that, content with holding hands and stealing glances at each other.

“I’m happy,” Stevie blurts out suddenly. “With you, I mean. I’m happy when I’m with you.”

Sam chuckles softly. “I’m happy when I’m with you, too, Stevie.”

*******

They go on more real-dates after that, alternating who pays. Sam takes Stevie to the Met, and lets himself be dragged around by an excited puppy, from exhibit to exhibit, intently listening to Stevie animatedly talking about this art piece and that one and _ohmygod Sam, look at that, do you see the brush strokes in this one?_

In turn Stevie takes Sam to a live-reading of his favorite author. They sit in the front row, holding Sam’s hand while he listens to the author talking about their book and occasionally raises his hand to ask a question about small details, excited when it makes the author launch into a minutes long explanation of why they chose to write something that way and not this way.

They’re happy like this, going on dates. Stevie doesn’t know why they haven’t been recognized yet, but then again this is New York. People barely gave a shit when aliens attacked.

They also meet up at Stevie’s or Sam’s apartment quite often, usually it involves one of them cooking dinner for the other, or lunch. Sometimes even breakfast.

During one of those dinners at Sam’s, Bucky found out about Stevie being non-binary. Sam and Stevie were in the kitchen, Sam leaning back against the counter, watching Stevie chop up vegetables, when Bucky walked in.

“You’re not cooking for him in your own home, Sam?” Bucky asked with a raised eyebrow. Stevie tensed up for a second, but before they could say something, Sam was already talking.

“Nope, they make a better lasagna than me,” he says.

There’s a short pause, but then Bucky just raises an eyebrow. “They do, huh? And how do you feel about that?”

“Well, I love Stevie, so it’s fine,” Sam replies and glances at Stevie, a reassuring smile on his lips.

“Well then, as long as Stevie lets me eat some of their lasagna,” Bucky says and smiles at them.

“Of course,” Stevie says after a moment of silence, throwing a small smile at Bucky.

Later, when Sam pulls Stevie back against his naked chest, dick slowly softening inside Stevie, they can’t help but ask.

“How did you know he would be so accepting?”

Sam tightens his arms around Stevie. “His younger sibling is non-binary, too.”

“Oh, okay,” Stevie replies. They close their eyes and snuggle back against Sam. “I love you.”

“Love you, too, Stevie.”

It’s the last thing they hear before drifting off into sleep.

*******

“I think I want to retire,” Stevie says one night, when they’re cuddling on the couch, Buzzfeed Unsolved on in the background.

“Okay,” Sam drowsily replies, hands never stopping their path up and down Stevie’s back.

“I think I want to go to art school,” Stevie then says. They lift their face from where it was tucked into Sam’s neck to look at his face. They find endless love.

“That’s awesome,” Sam says and smiles down at Stevie. He presses a soft kiss to their forehead and wraps his arms tight around their waist.

“And I want to move out of Avengers Tower,” Stevie concludes.

“Want me to go apartment hunting with you?” Sam asks.

“Please,” Stevie answers.

“Do you want to retire first or do you want to find an apartment before that?” Sam asks.

Stevie hums in reply while thinking about it. “I think I want to retire first.”

“Okay cool,” Sam says.

“I’m gonna do it tomorrow,” Steve sleepily mumbles.

“Want me to come with you?” Sam asks.

“I can do it,” Stevie says. “Besides, you promised Bucky you’d drive him to Home Depot tomorrow.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Sam whines.

“I can’t believe you agreed to him repainting the kitchen _and_ the living room,” Stevie teases him and giggles when that earns them a soft jab between their ribs.

“Shut up,” Sam grumbles, but there’s no heat behind his words. Just love. “Besides, he finally asked Clint out, so he can have this, as a treat.”

Stevie just snorts and presses a few light kisses to the soft skin of Sam’s neck.

*******

Stevie calls Sam directly after leaving Fury’s office. “I retired!”

“I’m so proud of you, Stevie!” Sam’s voice sounds excitedly through the phone. In the background they can hear Bucky yelling something incoherently.

“Bucky says he’s proud of you, too,” Sam translates.

“Thank you both,” Stevie says. Then they squeak. “Ohmygod I can’t believe I just retired!”

“Yeah you did,” Sam says softly.

“I did,” Stevie repeats equally soft. “You two want to come over for dinner? I’ll make my lasagna.”

Sam’s answer is drowned out by Bucky excitedly yelling _“lasagna!”_ over and over.

“Aren’t you in Home Depot right now?” Stevie asks. They can hear some rustling over the phone and Bucky’s voice getting quieter.

“Yes we are,” Sam sighs. “I’m pretending I don’t know him.”

Stevie smirks. “Did you just run away from Bucky?”

“Damn you and your super soldier hearing,” Sam grumbles. “I’m hiding in the kitchen sink isle.”

Stevie just laughs. They reach their car then, and get into the driver’s seat. “I guess I’ll see you both later today then, right?”

“Yeah you will,” Sam says. Then, “fuck, he found me.”

“Better run, Sam,” Stevie teases him. “Love you, see you later.”

“Love you, too, Stevie,” Sam says. And right before they hang up, Stevie can hear him yell “I don’t know you, Barnes!” over the phone.

They chuckle to themselves and then drop the phone to the passenger seat, put the car in reverse and drive to Avengers Tower, stopping on the way to buy the ingredients for their lasagna.

*******

“I think this is it, Sam,” Stevie says. They’re standing in the middle of an airy living room, big windows opening towards the small backyard.

Sam comes up behind them and wraps his arms around their waist. “I think this is it, too.”

“I’ll take it,” Stevie says to the realtor. They smile in return and give them all the paperwork they need to sign.

Their furniture is delivered over the course of the next few days, and they’re throwing a small welcome party on Saturday, just Sam, Bucky, and them. It’s nice. They eat lasagna, play a couple of board games, and all fall asleep in a heap of limbs and heads on the big couch.

Sam and Stevie talk for a bit after Bucky falls asleep, spooning one of Stevie’s thighs like a teddy bear.

“I’m so glad I lapped you back then,” Stevie murmurs quietly, head pillowed on Sam’s chest.

“Me too, Stevie,” Sam says just as quietly.

“And I’m glad I kissed you, in the cafe,” Stevie says.

“I’m glad you kissed me in the cafe,” Sam agrees. “If you hadn’t, Bucky would’ve probably smashed our faces together himself.”

Stevie chuckles quietly, and presses their ear even closer to where it’s pillowed right over Sam’s heart. They can feel Sam laughing, too, his heartbeat speeding up a bit.

“That would’ve been hilarious,” Stevie says. “But I’m glad we figured it out on our own.”

“Me too,” Sam says, and cards a hand through Stevie’s hair. It’s gotten longer. Soon they can pull it back in a tiny ponytail.

“Love you,” Stevie slurs, eyes already shut. They press a clumsy kiss to Sam’s chest, and even though Sam is wearing a t-shirt he can still feel their lips on his skin, warming the place up with love.

“Love you, too,” he says.

*******

They’re at the zoo, in the reptile house pointing out various animals to each other when Stevie lets out a sudden snort.

Sam looks over to them, grin on his own face. “What?” He wants to know.

“Look at this snake,” Stevie points to one dark green one at the back of the tank they’re standing in front of right now. “Doesn’t that one remind you of Loki?”

Sam steps a bit closer to the tank, squinting at the snake Stevie is pointing at. “Yes, you’re right,” he finally says. “Looks as sneaky as Loki.”

Stevie just giggles some more, and goes to stand next to Sam. “How hilarious would it be if that’s really Loki, though.”

Sam hums in agreement. “Thor did say he couldn’t find them anywhere at the moment,” he says.

“Huh,” Stevie makes. Then they step up to the glass separating them from the snakes, and splay their fingers against it, softly tapping them on the glass. “Hey, Loki,” they whisper.

“Ohmygod, Stevie, really?” Sam laughs.

“Oh shut up,” Stevie says lovingly. “I wanna know if that’s Loki.”

The snake nods.

*******

“I want to wear a skirt,” Stevie says on one cold morning that they’re both spending underneath the blankets, keeping each other warm.

“What kind of skirt?” Sam just asks. He’s the little spoon this time, loves the way Stevie has their arms wrapped tightly around his waist, holding him close.

“One of those long flowy ones,” Stevie says. They sound so sure, and Sam just knows that they have some already bookmarked.

“You wanna show me?” He asks and reaches for Stevie’s phone when they make a grabby hands motion towards where it's lying on the nightstand next to the still uncapped bottle of lube.

Stevie takes the phone from Sam and unlocks it, still spooning Sam and holding the phone in front of his body. They both smile at the background photo Stevie set for their home screen. It’s a picture of them standing arm in arm in Stevie’s backyard, looking at each other with so obvious adoration in their eyes. Bucky took it and told them after that they’re both too sweet for him. They both just stared at him with raised eyebrows and reminded him that he’s just as sweet when it comes to Clint.

They open the browser and tap open a few of their bookmarks.

“I like this one,” Stevie whispers, and shows Sam a long dark blue skirt. It falls down to the ankles and has an underskirt that stops shortly above the knees. The lower half is slightly see-through, with a beautiful stitching of various flowers ranking up from the hem, winding their way up.

“You’d look beautiful in that one,” Sam says, eyes still tracing all the flowers. “That silky white button down you have would look so good paired with this skirt.”

“You think?” Stevie asks, a little hesitant.

“I know,” Sam simply says. He turns around and kisses the frown on Stevie’s forehead away. Then he turns back around. “Now show me which other skirts you like.”

Stevie shows him four other skirts, each of them long and wide, some a simple color, others with different patterns. One has small stitchings of the sun and moon on it, another is dark green on top that slowly flows into a light grey at the bottom.

They buy them all, and also add some more hoodies to the order. Stevie loves hoodies.

*******

One time Sam comes home to Stevie lounging in soft grey sweatpants and the hoodie that Sam wore yesterday on the couch.

Stevie is so immersed in the show they’re watching, they don’t notice Sam until he’s practically lying on top of them.

“I just thought of this house as home,” Sam mumbles into Stevie’s chest. There’s a hand on his cheek, fingertips scratching softly through the beard he’s started to grow out.

“Because it is,” Stevie whispers from above. “This is as much your home as it is mine.”

Sam just burrows closer.

“Do you want to move in with me?” Stevie then asks, causing Sam to squeak into their chest.

“Ohmygod you can’t just ask me to move in,” Sam says with a big smile on his face.

Stevie chuckles at him. “Why not? I know we both have been thinking about you moving in.”

“You got me there,” Sam says. “I’ll call Bucky and let him know, he’s been bugging me about when I’d leave so Clint can move in for days now.”

“You do that,” Stevie says with another chuckle.

They listen in to Sam’s call with Bucky, and can’t help the loud laugh when Bucky yells _“Sam’s moving out, you can move in!”_ on the other end.

“Ohmygod,” Sam just mumbles, and hangs up on Bucky. “I’ve been replaced.”

“Awww,” Stevie grins. “But you have me.”

“That’s right,” Sam softly agrees. “I have you. And you have me.”

Stevie hums, and leans down for a kiss at the same time Sam leans up for one. They don’t make it to the bedroom, it’s a good thing Stevie stashed some lube in the living room table.

*******

It happens during one of the Avengers movie nights, that Stevie still occasionally goes to. They were their team, and are still their friends, so sometimes Stevie and Sam join the rest on Fridays.

This time they’re watching Lord of the Rings, Stevie doesn’t know which one. It might also be The Hobbit. They don’t know, and to be honest, also don’t care, much too occupied with their hand on Sam’s thigh and Sam’s lips on their own.

At first they don’t hear the whispers of the others, but something draws his attention.

“Oh leave him alone, Tony,” Nat hisses towards Tony. “He’s clearly enjoying himself with Sam right now.”

It’s been a while since someone has referred to Stevie by he/him pronouns. They draw back from Sam for a moment, pretending to be thirsty, and take a sip from their glass of water.

They snuggle back into Sam and try to focus on the movie for a while, when it happens again.

“Tony, leave Steve alone,” Nat hisses again.

“I didn’t even do anything!” Tony exclaims, not exactly trying to be quiet.

“I could see you glance over to him,” Nat just retorts. “Leave him alone or I’ll take your access to your workshop away.”

Tony gasps. “You wouldn’t. You couldn’t!”

“I would and I can!” Nat says. “No access to it for a month if you don’t leave Steve alone.”

Tony gasps again, but before he can answer anything, there’s a shaky voice interrupting him.

“It’s Stevie.”

Everyone turns around to them and only belatedly does Stevie realize that it was them.

“What?” Tony says, clearly confused as to what is happening. The others don’t look much better, all throwing glances towards Stevie, who sits up straight and tries to get their voice under control.

“My name is Stevie, and I use they/them pronouns,” they say, voice still shaking a little bit. There’s a hand on their thigh, gripping tightly in support and Stevie reaches down to hold onto it.

“Say what now?” Tony breaks the silence that followed Stevie’s confession. And then the rest start to talk all over each other.

“Since when-“

“What does that even mean-“

“I’m so confused right-“

It’s all too much for them, and they stand up from the couch, tugging Sam with them towards the exit without a look back.

The drive back to their house is silent, Stevie stoically looking forward. They can feel Sam’s concerned face staring at them from the side, but they know if they turn towards him, then they’d acknowledge what just happened, and they don’t want to do that in public.

They squeeze Sam’s hand though, showing him that they’re still there and it’s okay, for now.

At home they make it to the living room before their breathing starts picking up, their heart starts beating faster, like it’s about to burst out of their chest.

They can feel Sam leading them over to the couch, sitting them down on the soft cushions and taking off their boots for them.

“I’ll be right back, Stevie,” Sam whispers, and presses a kiss to their forehead. “One minute.”

Stevie just nods their head to show they heard Sam, and then he’s gone. But it’s like he said, he’s back after roughly a minute, and sits down on the couch next to Stevie, wrapping their blanket around them, essentially making them into one big blanket blob.

“We’re just gonna sit here and watch Buzzfeed Unsolved until you feel better, and tomorrow you call Dr. Cardoza, okay?” Sam says, both arms wound tightly around Stevie’s shoulders, holding them close.

“Okay,” Stevie whispers and hides their face in Sam’s neck, not wanting him to see the tears slowly running down their face.

They know that Sam notices, but they’re relieved when he doesn’t say anything, just gently wipes them away.

Stevie drifts in and out of sleep, occasionally feels Sam pressing kisses all over their face, whispers of assurance, love, and adoration caressing their body.

*******

They wake up the next morning in bed, Sam wrapped around them from behind, arms holding them close.

At first they think Sam is still asleep, but then he moves, sitting up on the bed and staring down at Stevie, with so much blinding love in his eyes, Stevie wants to start crying again.

Instead they wiggle around in their blanket cocoon, until they’re sitting up, too, back against the headboard. Sam sits cross legged besides them.

“Do you want a hot chocolate?” He asks quietly.

“Yes,” Stevie whispers hoarsely. “Please.”

“I’ll bring you one,” Sam says and presses a soft kiss to their lips. “Be right back.”

He leaves for the kitchen, Stevie can hear him puttering around, opening cupboards, heating milk up, and placing a cup on the counter.

A few minutes later he returns, a steaming mug in his hands. He offers it to Stevie, who takes it, before sitting down besides them.

Stevie gently blows air on the hot chocolate, trying to cool it down a bit so they can slowly drink it.

They blush when Sam leans in and presses a lingering kiss to their cheek.

“You know,” he starts. “You’re a fine them, Stevie. Don’t be afraid to be who you are.”

Stevie lets a small smile steal its way onto their lips. “Thanks, Sam.”

“Always,” he answers. “Now, do you want to watch some more Buzzfeed Unsolved before you call Dr. Cardoza?”

“Of course,” Stevie says, and throws a shy grin towards Sam. “Can we rewatch one of the True Crime Marathons?”

“Sure,” Sam says and gets up from the bed. He takes the mug from Stevie again so they can get up, too. They shuffle to the living room, never leaving their blanket cocoon. Sam finds it adorable.

They sit down close together on the couch and Sam turns on the TV, navigating to one of the True Crime marathon videos.

They’re about two hours into the video, when the doorbell rings.

“I’ll get it,” Sam says, and presses a kiss to Stevie’s cheek.

“Okay,” Stevie says distractedly, too immersed in the current case.

They hear voices murmuring in the hallway, but don’t really pay attention to them. At least, not until they can hear Sam clearing his throat next to them. They look up at Sam, who looks at him with an apologetic smile on his face.

Behind Sam, Natasha comes into view.

“Hi,” she says softly.

Stevie just grunts in return. They don’t really want to talk to Natasha now. Rationally they know that Nat didn’t do anything wrong, considering they aren’t out to anyone but Sam and Bucky, but it still hurts.

“I came to apologize,” Nat says quietly. “I should’ve noticed something was up sooner.”

“You didn’t know,” Stevie says roughly. They can feel fresh tears pooling in the corners of their eyes already.

“I know,” she replies. “Everybody’s reaction to your coming out yesterday wasn’t optimal though. I immediately knew what you were saying, that you were coming out to all of us, and yet I sat there in silence. I was too shocked to know what to say. And I don’t mean that in a bad way. It’s just that I didn’t expect it. Which sounds shitty, nobody should assume anything about someone, even if you think you know them well.”

Stevie sits there in silence through her explanation. They don’t know what to say when she stops, so they just nod and reach out a hand not inside their blanket cocoon.

She takes it gently into her own and then sits down next to them on the couch.

“So, Stevie,” she says. “I didn’t know you were such a Buzzfeed Unsolved fan?”

“Sam recommended it to me,” they say shyly. “And once I started watching I couldn’t stop.”

“You mind if I join you two for a bit?” She asks hesitantly.

“No,” Stevie says. “Please stay.”

They motion for Sam to join them on the couch, and Sam quickly resumes his position next to Stevie, wrapping his arms back around their shoulders. Nat still holds one of their hands in her own, and while they all watch in silence, occasionally squeezes it.

*******

“So, uhm…” Stevie starts, and wrings their hands. “I left rather abruptly on Friday, I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for,” Tony says and waves his hand around. “We didn’t exactly react well.”

“Yeah, uhm,” Stevie says. “You really didn’t.”

Sam goes to stand next to him and takes their hands into his own. “It’s okay, they’re all supportive,” he assures Stevie.

They smile at Sam and quickly peck his lips. “I know.”

Stevie turns back to the other Avengers, takes a deep breath and then officially comes out to them. “My name is Stevie, I’m non-binary and I use they/them pronouns.”

Their coming out is met with whooping from all of them, and Tony giving them a big, round present. “I know you retired as Captain, which we all respect by the way, but I thought this would make a nice decoration in your house,” he explains.

Stevie rips off the paper to reveal a replica of their old Captain America shield, but this one is painted in the non-binary colors. They hug it close to his chest, before giving it to Sam so they can hug Tony and the rest of the Avengers. “Thank you,” they whisper. “Thank you all so much.”

*******

Stevie comes out to the world via a pre-written press statement, read by Tony himself. Sam and Stevie don’t attend it, they’re away on vacation in Norway, visiting Thor and Valkyrie in Asgard.

They don’t know much about what happened at the press release, but apparently the media had a field day. And not even with Stevie coming out as non-binary, apparently Clint crashed down into the middle of it wearing nothing but a purple jock strap, and yelling _“I’m here, I’m queer!”_ until Bucky managed to drag him out of the room.

Stevie and Sam laugh so hard when they see it, there’s tears streaming down their faces.

Of course, Stevie’s coming out as non-binary still makes most of the newspapers’ front pages, but aside from Fox News, nothing bad is written about them. And Stevie only has five minutes to be angry about Fox News because soon they’re distracted by Sam’s mouth wandering down their body, slowly dragging their long skirt up their legs, lips following the hem, until all Stevie can do is hold on while Sam takes them apart.

**Author's Note:**

> Please make sure to go and retweet the amazing art done by Mairi [here](https://twitter.com/KappaMairi/status/1313431708029669377?s=20)!
> 
> You can reblog the [Tumblr Masterpost here](https://what-the-hell-is-a-sourwolf.tumblr.com/post/631229789929357312/doing-alright-a-bsrf-collab-by-chilibabie07-and).
> 
> My [Twitter](https://twitter.com/chilibabie07) (and my [Tumblr](https://what-the-hell-is-a-sourwolf.tumblr.com/), although that's currently taken over by Teen Wolf).


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